


Merry Christmas

by fromward (from)



Category: Murder by Numbers (2002)
Genre: Holidays, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-05
Updated: 2011-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-25 17:59:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/from/pseuds/fromward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard follows Justin into the men's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Merry Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2005.

The restaurant is crowded and Richard hates French food, but he spotted the Pendletons eating at one of the tables by the window twenty minutes ago and he’s changed his mind about faking that stomachache.

Justin is in a suit and tie – the cut is slim, probably off-the-rack French shit – and his hair is slicked back, wet and shiny under all the lights as he crosses the restaurant.

It’s too good for Richard to let go, even if the walk to the toilets is going to be difficult from here.

He counts to ten before excusing himself, lifting his chair back by the seat so he could get up. His dad waves him off without looking – busy making small talk with a town official – and his mom tells him to hurry. For what, he doesn’t know.

Richard has to wait for the cheese trolley and three waiters to pass by him before actually moving, trying to catch up without looking like he is.

He pushes the door to the men's. An old guy on his way out greets him, probably knows his dad or something. Everyone does. ‘Hey,’ he says, not really looking.

Justin is at the urinals and doesn't realize Richard is there until he's passing by, checking all the stalls, their dark wooden doors creaking.

‘Well, just look at you,’ Richard says, leaning against the wall. ‘All cleaned up for daddy.’ He smiles when Justin ignores him and heads for the sinks. ‘I have to say, Justin,’ he pushes off with his elbows, ‘you should try harder more often.’

‘What do you think you're doing?’ Justin looks at him through the mirror, fixing back a non-existent lock of hair. Dork, Richard thinks. ‘The whole restaurant must've seen you follow me in here.’

‘Relax,’ Richard says, leaning sideways against the next sink over after making sure it's dry. ‘You think you're the only one who ever needs to take a piss?’

‘Then go do what you need to do,’ Justin says. Richard can't remember Justin's voice ever being this quiet, but they've been meeting at the bluff for more than a month now and the sea is always so loud.

Justin puts his hands under the running tap and Richard steps behind him, pulling his dark brown tie back. Justin looks startled for a second. ‘You don't want it to get wet,’ Richard says in his ear, laying the tie over his hunched shoulder.

‘Merry Christmas, Justin.’ He moves back and winks before walking away.

‘Get the stuffed hare,’ Justin says over the sound of the tap drying up. ‘It's tender.’ He clears his throat. ‘Perfect.’

Richard turns around and smiles, but Justin isn't looking at him.

The door pushes open from the other side. A man says hello to him like the one before did. Richard nods and heads out.

 _‘Le lapereau farci pour mon fils, le bouche...’_

His mom likes to forget that they're not in France and his dad indulges her because he can't afford to get a divorce in California.

Richard stares at bar and waits for his food to come.


End file.
